From Here
by Kourin Lucrece
Summary: Mac finds a letter that Danny wrote to Aiden after the second season. contains spoilers and much DnA angst


From Here

By Kourin Lucrece

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI:NY, and the song "I Can't See New York" belongs to Tori Amos

CSINY

It was a simple thing to find, really – a notebook, its open pages covered in Danny's tiny scrawl. He'd picked it up in search of a report the younger CSI had been working on, before being called out to a scene. When he glanced at the page, however, he quickly saw that it was not the report at all, but a leader to Aiden.

Strange to see something addressed to the deceased CSI, and he felt a twinge of concern for Danny. Mac did not normally consider himself a nosy person, normally one to respect the privacy of his friends and team, but found himself reading the letter anyway.

__

Dear Aiden,

You know, someone told me once that writing a letter to someone dead makes you feel better – 'helps you heal', or however the hell they put it. At the time I remember thinking it was a crock of shit, you know? But, last night I was listening to that cd you gave me a few weeks before, and that song you love so much "I Can't See New York" came on, and there I was sitting in my apartment listening to your fucking girly music and bawling my eyes out. I figured it might be a good time to try out his letter-thing.

I can just picture your reaction, too – you'd laugh and tease the hell out of me. Probably call me a wuss or something, and punch my arm, but then invite me over for dinner just to make sure I was okay. I miss that. fuck I miss YOU. There, I said it, okay? I miss you, and I don't think it's ever going to go away.

I miss teasing each other, and competing in everything. I miss seeing you when I walk into work. I miss working with you in the lab, and knowing that you completely understand when I talk it out to myself, or go off on a tangent because I have a hunch, and just know something is out of place. Or the way you understood the complete devotion to the job, because you had it too, but that you would still make me laugh or drag my ass off home if I got too obsessed.

I miss that you would stick up for me when I got myself in trouble, and let's face it – that's a lot. I miss that you would come to me when you needed to talk, and that you were always there if I needed to do the same. Or the way we would go to Sullivan's with Flack after work just to unwind.

Flack got really hurt, you know. They didn't think he was gonna make it – him and Mac got caught in those bombings, and it was some quick thinking on Mac's part that kept him alive. Christ, when I saw him all ripped up like that… I lost it. All I could think was 'god no, not him too.' I didn't know what to do, and you weren't there. You weren't there because you're fucking dead, and you left me here without you. I've been sitting at bedsides, hoping that Flack and Louie are going to pull-through and I don't know what the fuck to do anymore. Flack is going to be fine now, and that's such a relief, but the chances of Louie ever waking up are getting slimmer everyday. I can't keep him here, can I? Just like you.

Jesus, Aid, I am so sorry that I wasn't there to protect you. I know, I know, you never needed my protection from anything, but fuck… if I had been there, I could have done something. I didn't have your back good enough, and I keep wishing that there was something I could do to go back, and get that bastard before he ever touched you.

I keep thinking about that time after the case with the two friends who were killed by an ex-boyfriend, thinking they had something going on… Remember the one I mean? We sat in my apartment, drinking beer and watching the baseball game, and you looked over and asked if I would always have your back. I promised you, Aiden, I fucking promised you. Said I'd always look out for you.

I promised your brothers the same thing. Last Christmas, when we were all sitting in the living room and you and your mom were getting stuff from the other room, they asked if I was good to you. I told them that I would always look out for you, in the field and off. I failed.

Jesus. That keeps fucking with all of the good memories. All I can see is that you're gone, and processing it, and that I couldn't help you, and how you must have died. It's like that with Louie, too. I keep seeing him beaten and in a coma, and before that, beating the crap out of me and saying we weren't brothers anymore. It's all just on repeat up there and I can't fucking turn it off, like with the cases but worse.

I'm just so goddammed tirerd.

But, I keep finding things that make me think of you, too. I barely even want to go to my apartment anymore. I found a picture from my cousin's wedding. Remember how much we danced that night? I don't think I've ever laughed so much in my life. And to think you always though I didn't know how to dance. The look on your face when my aunt asked when we were getting married… priceless, just priceless. Worst part is, I was gonna ask you… You were supposed to come over for dinner the weekend after everything, and I had it all planned. Told myself it was one good thing about you not being my partner anymore – I could finally ask.

As much as you joked, I like to think you'd of said 'yes', you know? You did go in for romance. Like the time we were in Central Park in the rain, and you said you'd always wanted to have a kiss in the rain like in all the old movies. It was amazing, I'll give you that. And then, dancing in the downpour with out music like a couple of drunk teenagers. God, it was so fucking cold when we got back to my apartment, and the people on the subway had been moving away like we were crazy – which is probably how we looked, soaking wet and hysterical laughing. I remember getting into dry clothes, and you borrowed my sweatpants, and we spent the rest of the evening under a blanket on the couch watching movies – starting with the old ones, and getting sick of it and putting on Indiana Jones.

You were so much fun to be around, and I just wish I could have you back. It's strange, I come into work everyday, and things are still moving as normal and it just hits me that it shouldn't be this normal. That you died, and the world should have just shattered with me. So much shit has gone down, Aid, too much.

Jesus, I didn't realize I had that many words in me. (although, I know you'd laugh and tell me that it's not surprising – I never shut the fuck up. But, you know what I mean… serious words, you know?)

I don't know if any of that made me feel better, but it's good to just get it all out. There's too much shit in my head. This is kind of a goodbye, you know? Not because I want to forget you – I'll never do that – but because I gotta move on. This is killing me.

I guess I'll see you around sometime. I hope you like it up there.

Buona notte, mia bella. Ti amo.

Danny

Mac put the notebook carefully back onto the desk, as it had been, and sat back. He swallowed past the tightness in his throat. It had been hard losing a member of his team – part of his family, and had known that she was Danny's best friend… but he had never realized how deep it went. He decided to get the report another time, and decided he'd make sure to let Danny know (subtly of course) that he was always there to listen.

That night, he looked up and listened to the song "I Can't See New York", and understood, and mourned for his broken team.

CSI

**Tori Amos lyrics**

"I Can't See New York"

from here no lines are drawn

from here no lands are owned

13,000 and holding

swallowed in the purring of her engines

tracking the beacon here

"is there a signal there

on the other side"

on the other side?

what do you mean

side of what things?

and you said

and you did

and you said

you could find me here

and you said

you would find me

even in death

and you said

and you said

you'd find me

but I can't see New York

as I'm, circling down

through white cloud

falling out

and I know

his lips are warm

but I can't seem to find my way out

my way out

of this hunting ground

from here crystal meth

in metres of millions

in the end all we have,

soul blueprint.

did we get lost in it?

do we conduct a search

for this "from the other side"

from the other side?

what do they mean

side of what things...

and you said.

you again

it's you again

I can't see

I can't see New York

from the other side

from the other side

I hum from the other side

Yeah.. so, I was listening to that song, because it's beautiful, and this popped into my head. I hope you liked it.


End file.
